


Crime of Roses

by Lexa_De_Vil



Series: Perfect Crimes [1]
Category: Criminal Minds
Genre: Behavioral Analysis Unit (Criminal Minds), F/F, F/M, M/M, Multi
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-06
Updated: 2021-01-06
Packaged: 2021-03-17 09:08:20
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,637
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28597470
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lexa_De_Vil/pseuds/Lexa_De_Vil
Summary: Kenna Underwood was Jason Gideon's best student and one that he didn't want to leave behind. When F.B.I. agents demand his return, his answer is clear - he wants her there. Despite their disagreement, Kenna joins the Behaviour Analysis Unit as their intern, much to her delight and nervousness. At first, the situation doesn't go as planned, especially because the BAU Unit Chief Aaron Hotchner doesn't believe in favoritism. Therefore, Kenna must go out of her comfort zone to soothe her desire to prove herself. In the team - however untraditional and unique - she finds more than a comfortable workplace, but a family, acceptance, and love.
Relationships: Aaron Hotchner/Haley Hotchner, Aaron Hotchner/Original Female Character(s), David Rossi/Original Female Character(s), Derek Morgan/Original Female Character(s), Emily Prentiss/Original Female Character(s), Jennifer "JJ" Jareau/William LaMontagne Jr., Penelope Garcia/Kevin Lynch, Spencer Reid/Original Female Character(s)
Series: Perfect Crimes [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2095503
Comments: 2
Kudos: 16





	Crime of Roses

Jason Gideon walked across the floor in front of the projector, where pictures of mutilated bodies flashed back and forth. He eyed his students and their expression, which went from disgust to surprise and wonder. Even though he would never admit it aloud, this was his favorite class from the Behavior Analysis Training Centre in Quantico, Virginia. “Anyone recognizes these faces?” he asked, smiling as several students raised their hands.

“Victims of the Footpath Killer,” one of them said.

He nodded, “That is what Virginia newspapers are calling him. We refer to him as the unknown subject or what?”

Silence followed his words. Gideon turned back to the pictures, staring at faces of all those innocent lives that were lost, while students tried to remember the correct answer. Few moments passed, and a pale hand engulfed in a bracelet with a skull shot in the air. It belonged to a tall, green-haired girl, whose white t-shirt was tucked in her blue jeans. She sat in the seat closest to exit, and her emerald eyes remained focused on the photos.

“Kenna?” Gideon broke the silence as he turned to face the students, his eyes staring at her with expectation glittering in them.

“Unsub,” her delicate voice carried through the room despite its softness, and she smiled. “It's more commonly known as the Unsub, because of its shortness. There's no need to keep repeating 'unknown subject' over and over again. Takes too much time.”

“Correct,” he said, and explained, “I told Virginia P.D. 'you’re looking for a white male in his twenties, who owns an American made truck disrepair, works a meanly job.' I told them 'when you find him, don't be surprised to hear that he speaks with a severe stutter. '”

A girl raised her hand and said, “Not to sound skeptical but come on! A stutter?”

“Where'd the murders occurred?”

The girl thought about it, re-reading her notes, as did the others, except for Kenna. She pursed her lips, inhaled and exhaled, bracing herself for speaking in front of a lot of people. “The Unsub committed his murders in isolated areas; on the hiking paths. He needed to be alone, because it provided a more intimate kill, which allowed greater release of tension for him, but it also meant he didn't have to speak. He could focus on using the amount of force to kill his victims.”

“Exactly. He couldn't charm them like Ted Bundy did,” Gideon continued her train of thoughts. “If he had to use a great amount of force, he was compensating for a lack of confidence caused by a lack of something else – something he was ashamed of.”

A door-opening interrupted the lecture as a tall, geek-like man with messy brown hair walked in, giving Gideon a look and taping his fingers against a file in his hands. 

Gideon let out a shaky breath and muttered, “Excuse me.” 

They left the students behind, heading to his office. “I'll look the case file over and get some thought to you ASAP,” Gideon said as he read the sheets of paper. 

Agent Aaron Hotchner, also known as Hotch, walked into the office. He was a tall, dark-haired man with a serious expression plastered on his face. “You’re going with us to Seattle ASAP.”

A large picture of a woman landed in Gideon's hand. He looked up to see a muscular, dark-skinned man – SSA Derek Morgan. “Twenty-three-year-old Heather Woodland,” he said, nodding to the photo.

“Before she left for lunch, she downloaded an email with a time delayed email attached,” Hotch began, “The killer virus whipped her hard drive and left this on the screen.”

Morgan passed another picture with the words 'FOR HEAVEN'S SAKE, CATCH ME BEFORE I KILL MORE. I CANNOT CONTROL MYSELF'. The infamous words of the Lipstick Killer echoed through Gideon's mind, remembering the feeling of helplessness when the police walked to a house, only to find these words scrawled across the wall in victim's blood.

“He only keeps them for more than seven days, which means we have fewer than thirty-six hours to find her,” Hotch continued.  
Morgan shrugged, “They want you back in the saddle. You ready?”

“Looks like medical leave's over, boss,” Reid said with a sheepish smile.

“You sure they want me?” Gideon asked, shock written all over his features. It had been quite the time since he was an active agent.

Hotch nodded, “The order came from the director.”

Gideon nodded back and sighed. “But I want a favor.” He took a file out of his desk and passed it to Hotch. “An intern, to be precise. I know the F.B.I. has a program, but that's for ten weeks during the summer.” He noticed the disbelief on their faces and continued, “Kenna's at top of my class. Her adoptive father is – well, let's say the F.B.I. background check will be passed with flying colors. She's a junior at the University of Virginia, taking classes here at Quantico, and has a GPA of 4.6.”

“Gideon, this is crazy,” Morgan said, shaking his head. “She's not qualified for this.”

Aaron Hotchner stared at Gideon's face, searching for his motive. Once he recognized the determined look in his eyes, he sighed. “I'll speak with the director. Perhaps, you could pull some strings. But it's a huge risk, you know that, right?”

“Yes, I do. And I'm willing to take it.” Gideon's eyes found the picture of his class, his focus on the green-haired girl. “She's smart, thinks outside of the box, and isn’t easily shaken. She's got amazing instincts, a gut that never let her down, and knows how to work with people of all ages, genders and races. She can handle it.”

|●◊●|

Gideon drove himself, and now packed Kenna, until they stopped in front of the large, white airplane. He glanced at the green-haired girl, who fidgeted in her seat the entire way there. “Don't worry. You tend to over think, and scare yourself into absolute panic. Not a good idea with a bunch of profilers on the plane.”

“I know. I just feel out of place. Like I don't belong here,” Kenna admitted. “If I didn't know you met Edison only once – and that was for, like, ten minutes - I'd think you're doing me favors because you want to get on Eddie's good side, get something out of it. The director is his good friend, after all.”

“You fear not being accepted. That they'll believe you got here only because of the friendship between Edison and the director,” he stated with a frown on his face. 

“No, you're here, because I pulled some strings, because I want you here. From what I've been told, Edison doesn't want you in F.B.I. at all.”

Kenna smiled. “Eddie's worried about me. I mean, working for F.B.I. is a dangerous job. The possibility of an injury or death is extremely high. But he also knows he can't stop me. And Kath – she's quite a feminist – she wouldn't let him not allow me to join, simply because he wants to protect me. Worked great when I started dating.”

Gideon chuckled. They got out of the car, and Kenna's eyes surveyed the scene in front of them. Three men waited there; Agents Hotchner, Morgan and Dr. Reid. They nodded to Gideon, before eyeing her up and down – profiling her without a single thought. Hotchner even grimaced a little when he saw her hair color, while the other two smirked. 

Kenna had changed her outfit for the day while packing her things like Gideon had ordered her. Now, she wore black jeans, whose half was hidden in knee-length boots on high heels, an emerald-green blouse that matched her hair, and a black leather jacket. “It's nice to meet you,” she said as they reached them. “Kenna Underwood.”

They shook hands as Gideon introduced them, and the boarded the train. Kenna sat next to Gideon, opposite of Hotch and Morgan, while Reid and Jennifer Jareau, called JJ as she had introduced herself to Kenna before, sat in the seats next to them. From the entire team, Kenna liked JJ the most, at least for now, because the blonde's easy-going nature made her feel less nervous, which was quite an achievement.

“His first victim was twenty-six-year-old Melissa Kurst,” Spencer read from his file, while his eyes scanned the rest of the text as he could read 20 000 words per minute. “Stabbing, strangulation –“

“– wait, back up!” Morgan interrupted, confusion mixing with disbelief in his voice. “He stabbed her and then used the belt to finish her off?”

“Other way around,” Gideon corrected and eyed the group. “Why do you think he started using the belt in the second murder?”

Kenna's mind ran through all of the possibilities she could've think of in the moment; he had gotten weaker – perhaps because of an injury caused by one of the victims. Or he could've found joy in the tugging on the edges of the belt – a greater release of pleasure because of more control. She wanted to voice these thought, see what the others think. Yet, she didn't.

“Strangulation by hand is not as easy as one would believe,” Reid informed them. “He tried and probably found that it took too long.”

“So he stabbed her instead,” Morgan finished.

Hotch continued, “Then he realized it would take hours to clean up the blood –“

“– so he had to create a new method.”

Gideon weighted all the options, until he noticed Kenna scribbling down her notes. Of all of his students, she had the messiest handwriting, the word penmanship remaining an unknown territory for her. “Kenna, what do you think?”

All head turned to face her, and she bowed her head slightly under the attention. “Well, uh, skin to skin contact is an intimate situation – a very intimate one – and if that's what he had been looking for, but found out it took too much time, he may have compensated that by using a belt. A leather belt is a common sex toy, so I think that he compensated for the lack of skin to skin contact. Plus, it takes less time.”

“He's learning,” Gideon said with a nod. “Perfecting his scenario, becoming a better killer.”

|●◊●|

The BAU team stood in the room given to them by the F.B.I. Northwest Field Office in Seattle, Washington, looking at a map. Kenna studied it, until she found what she was searching for, and said, “He's willing to travel with the body.”

Gideon nodded, “And in the open, too. These appear to be pretty busy roads.”

“And he drives a car capable of concealing one,” added Hotch.

“1 in 7.4 drivers in Seattle owns a SUV,” Reid said, making the local detective gasp at his knowledge.

Morgan raised his eyebrows, “Explorers with tinted windows.”

“Explorers rate better with woman.”

Kenna glanced from Morgan to Reid, and said, “He could've rented the car for all we know.”

Morgan pointed a finger at her with a smile as he continued, “How do we know it's his car? Ted Bundy drove a BW bug.”

“What about a jeep Cherokee?” Hotch suggested.

Reid nodded, “Jeeps are more masculine.”

“We know how the Unsub feels about exerting his masculinity,” Gideon said, scanning over the pictures in hopes of dining some missing detail.

“What did the bureau become involved with the case?” Hotch asked.

“The forth body. He dumped that one out of state,” said one of the agents, who watched the BAU team work.

“On purpose?”

“If so, knowledge of law enforcement does suggest a criminal record,” Reid said as he moved closer to Kenna, frowning at the state of her notes.

“Or he watches television,” Morgan's smirk could've been heard in the comment. “When do we sit down with your task force?”

“The task force assembles at four,” the agent replied, earning a looks of disbelief.

“An accurate profile by 4:00 today?” Morgan voiced their thoughts.

Gideon shook his head and said, “That's not a problem. Let's start at the site of the last murder.”

|●◊●|

Kenna walked behind Morgan as they and Gideon looked around under the bridge. “Twenty-two-year-old Anne Cushion was found right here,” Morgan said. “Nails clipped just like the others. He wants them to fight back.”

“But not enough to hurt him,” Gideon added.

“Look,” Kenna pointed at the photo of the then new-found body, “He left the belt around her neck. Either he's getting sloppy or he did it his way for a reason we haven't discovered yet.”

“He's probably in his early twenties,” Gideon stated.

Morgan and Kenna glance at each other and when Kenna shrugged, Morgan decided to ask, “What's your reasoning?”

Gideon smirked and said, “Youthful arrogance.”

“He clothed the body before dumping it,” Morgan reminded, “That's a sign of remorse. It doesn't fit what he's been doing before, it's not consistent.” He looked around   
and continued, “Look where we are. His opinion of women is pretty clear, don't you think?”

“They're disposable,” Kenna said, surprising Morgan. “He has a bad background with women. Perhaps his mother or someone who broke his heart. If he ever had one, of course.”

Morgan smirked at her words, “Yes, but why show remorse by taking the time to dress her, but then dump her here?”

|●◊●|

“Okay, then how about the fact that on one hand, we have paranoid psychosis, but the autopsy protocol says what?” Morgan tossed an apple up and down, while pacing in the conference room. 

Kenna sat on the table – a habit of hers from young age, one that Gideon hated – and glanced at her file. Adhesive reside shows he put layer after layer of a duck tape over his victims' eyes. It confuses me a little.”

“I see what you mean,” Morgan nodded. “He knows he wants to kill them, but he still covers their eyes.”

“He doesn't want 'em looking at him,” she offered. “Okay, but then he takes the body and dumps it right out in the open, murder weapon nearby.”

“Not the M.O. of a paranoid convicted he's being watched or surveilled,” Reid shook his head.

“Paranoid psychosis, but behavior that's not paranoid.”

They stayed silent for a moment, all lost in their own thoughts until Hotch noticed Kenna re-reading her notes, tapping her fingers on the table and biting her lower lip. “Kenna, you got something?”

Once again, all eyes were on her. “Well, I'm not sure. The last victim he clothed in a symbol for remorse,” she trailed off, and then continued, “The covering of the eyes is a way for the victims to not look at him, and it breaks down the intimacy lever. Kind of showing he has a problem with – er, well – erection. But it also stopped the Unsub from seeing the pain. It's a way for him to drill away the feeling of remorse, since he can't physically see the pain he's causing.”

“Yes, but –“

“– Alright, enough,” Gideon cut Morgan off, turning to face the team. “Hotch, tell them we're ready.”

Morgan's eyebrows flew up as he asked, “We're ready?” When Gideon disappeared, he turned back to his friend, “Reid, you're good with this?”

Reid shrugged. He wasn't completely okay with it and had a lot of questions unanswered, but there wasn't much they could do about it.

“We've got a woman, who's only got a few hours left to live, an incomplete profile, and a Unit Chief on the verge of a nervous breakdown,” Morgan ranted, anger coming off him in waves.

He didn't notice Gideon as he returned and said, “They don't call them nervous breakdowns anymore.”

Morgan grimaced, and turned to Reid, but he only said, “It's called a major depressive episode.”

“I know, Reid.”

**Author's Note:**

> Hello, I'm Lexa De Vil, and I hope you'll like this fanfiction. I have a very slow burn romance planned, but they first have to know each other; I'm not a fan of love at first sight. I would like it if you'd take the time to leave a comment, in which you'd give me your opinion; whether you like it or not, what could be improved, what do you think of characters (Kenna, and even the others, if they aren't acting out of character)...  
> Another thing you should know is that English is not my first language, it's Slovak, actually. (Eh, please I'm from Slovakia, not Slovenia).   
> And the last thing is - no copying, please! I worked really hard on this fanfiction, I spent hours writing it, re-writing, revising, etc...   
> Thank you!


End file.
